Siriusly Demented
by onyxnox
Summary: Wonder what would it be if (my dear beloved I don't even know what to describe his greatness) Sirius Black was with Harry all this time? (Always.) Sorry can't resist. Anyway, witness it with me as we delve into this whirlwind of madness. Note: This would be short. Just saying. Probably just three parts.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1.

The end of the summer vacation came too quickly for Harry. He was looking forward to getting back to Hogwarts, anything to keep him away from the Dursleys, truthfully, but his month at the Burrow had been the happiest of his life so far. Save for Ron's usual company and the Weasleys' kind manner to him, Sirius had been there to give him some prodding, because of the unauthorized use of magic, and support, still offering him to stay with him at the Black's House.

"You know, we could've made a great deal of those times you've spent with your bloody muggle relatives," Sirius had said, but Harry knew he still can't.

It took a long while for their lot to get started the next morning after a sumptous dinner and a wonderful time with all the fireworks. They were up at dawn, but somehow, they still have a great deal to do. The clattered surroundings, matched with Mrs. Weasly dashing about the area looking for spare socks and quills, and people kept colliding on the stairs with bits of toast in their hands completed the picture. At the end, Harry still couldn't figure how eight people, six large trunks, two owls, and a rat were going to fit into one small Ford Anglia. Not without the 'special features' Mr. Weasley had added of course, he thought. Sirius, however, had gone later than the rest, but still managed to keep up with them with his motorcycle.

They reached King's Cross at a quarter to eleven. Mr. Weasley together with the boys dashed across the road swiftly, desperately trying to get trolleys for their trunks. As the rest of the lot confidently passed through the gateway, vanishing through the walls of platform 9 3/4, Harry and Ron were left to themselves. One problem was: they couldn't get through.

"Why can't we get through?" Harry hissed to Ron. "I dunno-" Ron replied hesitantly, wildly looking around. A handful of curious people were still watching them after making a commotion by mishandling their trolleys, cluttering their belongings on the ground.

"We're going to miss the train," Ron whispered. "I don't understand why the gateway's sealed itself-"

Harry looked up at the giant clock with a sickening feeling in his stomach. It's true. They're going to miss the train in three... two... one.

"It's gone," said Ron, sounding stunned. "The train's left. What if Mum, Dad, or Sirius can't get back through to us? Have you got any Muggle money?"

Harry replied with a small laugh, "The Dursleys haven't given me pocket money for six years."

After wondering for a while, Harry suggested, "I think we'd better go and wait by the car, we're attracting too much atten-"

"Harry!" said Ron excitedly, his eyes gleaming with hope. "The car!"

"What about it?" Harry replied curiously.

"We can fly the car to Hogwarts!"

"Now what?" Harry asked, blinking at the solid mass of cloud pressing in on them from all sides.

"We need to see the train to know what direction to go in," said Ron, carefully driving, flying the car.

"Dip back down again - quickly now -" They dropped back beneath the clouds and twisted in their seats squinting at the ground. Harry paused for a second. "What if Sirius sees us? I'd be bloody dead."

His thoughts were suddenly set aside as he spotted the train, "I can see it!" he yelled. "Right ahead- there!" And truthfully, the Hogwarts Express was streaking along below them.

"Due north," said Ron, checking the compass on the dashboard. "Okay, we'll just have to check on it every half hour or so- hold on-" And they both did.

The car suddenly shot up through the clouds and in a minute or so, they burst out into a blaze of sunlight.

"All we've got to worry about now are airplanes," said Ron.

"And Sirius, blimey, don't forget Sirius." Harry added, reminiscing the thought, and they looked at each other and started to laugh; for a long time, they couldn't stop.

"There!" Harry shouted, making Ron and Hedwig jump. "Straight ahead!"

Amidst the dark horizon, high on the cliff just over the lake, stood the turrets and towers of the Hogwarts castle. Breaking the relief of the both of them, was the sound and the shudder of the car. They were losing speed.

"Come on," Ron said cajolingly, shaking the steering wheel minimally, "we're nearly there, come on-"

But as a response, the engine groaned and narrow jets of steam were released from under the hood. Harry found himself gripping the edges of his seat as hard as they mercilessly flew toward the lake.

The car momentarily gave nasty wobbles that made Ron and Harry more anxious. Harry decided to glance out of his window. He saw the smooth, black, glassy surface of the water, beneath them. Just a mile below. Ron's knuckes were white on the steering wheel as they experience another wobble.

"Come on," Ron muttered, frustrated. They were nearly there! They were still over the lake and the castle was just right ahead; Ron put his foot down. Silence.

Then there was a loud clunk, a splutter, and the engine died completely without any memo whatsoever. "Uh-oh."

The nose of the car dropped. And then they were falling, accelerating, heading straight ahead for the solid wall of the castle. "Nooooo!" Ron yelled, desperately swinging the steering wheel around in the hopes of diverting their direction. They missed the dark stone wall by inches as the car turned in a great arc, soaring over the melancholy greenhouses, then the vegetable patch, and then over the black lawns, continuously losing the altitude.

"STOP! STOP!" he yelled with frustration, whacking the dashboard and the windshield, panicking. But to no avail. They were still plummeting, the ground still as an inevitable spot that they would crash on-

"WATCH OUT FOR THAT TREE!" Harry's voice bellowed, lunging for the steering wheel, but too late for the-

CRUNCH.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2.

With an earsplitting sound of metal against the wood, the car hit the thick tree trunk of the Whomping Willow and dropped onto the ground just by the enormous tree with a heavy jolt. Steam was issued and was now billowing from under the crupled hood of the car. Hedwig was screeching and shrieking in terror; Harry's head was throbbing in pain with a golf-ball-sized lump in it - the spot where his head had hit the windshield, and Ron, to his right, let out a low, despairing groan.

"Are you okay?" Harry said urgently, immediately checking on Ron. But instead of answering his question, "My wand," said Ron in a shaky voice. "Look at my wand-" Truthfully, as Harry has seen it, Ron's wand had snapped, almost in two, as the top was dangling limply, just desperately hanging on a few splinters of wood.

Harry opened his mouth, supposedly to assure Ron they'd be able to mend it up at the school, but he was immediately cut off by the sound of something whacking the sides of the car. "What's happen-"

Ron gasped, his gaze directly through the windshiled as Harry looked around just in time to catch a view of a branch smash into it. The enormous tree they had hit a while ago was attacking them. Its trunk was bent, almost doubling its form, and its gnarled boughs were pummeling every surface of the car it could possibly reach.

Ron shouted as another twisted limb smashed a large dent into the door beside him; the windshield trembling under a hail of blows from twigs while the roof was being pounded on furiously by a thick branch, nearly caving-

"Run for it!" Ron shouted again, focusing his whole body against his door, but for a split second, he was mercilessly knocked backward into Harry's lap with a vicious attack from another branch. "We're done for!" he moaned as the ceiling continued to sag.

Harry would've thought of the same thing if not for the sound of the engine restarting. "Reverse!" he yelled, as the car shot backward, the tree still trying to hit them. The boys could hear the tree's roots creaking as it almost ripped itself off of the ground, desperately trying to lash out at them.

"That," Ron said, trying to catch his breath, "was close. Well done, car-" The car, however, had reached the end of its tether. With two sharp clunks, the doors flew open and the next thing they knew was that they were sprawled on the damp ground. Loud thuds followed, ejecting the boys' luggages from the trunk alongside Hedwig's cage. Then steaming, the car rumbled off into the darkness, its rear lights blazing angrily.

"Come back!" Ron shouted after it, brandishing his broken wand in the air. "Dad'll kill me!" But with a snort, the car totally disappeared from view.

"Can you believe our luck?" Ron whimpered miserably, bending down to pick up Scabbers. "Of all the trees we could've hit, we had to get one that hits back."

"Come on," said Harry wearily, "we'd better get up to the school..."

And so they did.

"You were seen," Professor Snape had hissed, showing them the headline of the Evening Propehet: FLYING FORD ANGLIA MYSTIFIES MUGGLES. He read aloud: "Two Muggles in London, convinced they saw an old car flying over the Post Office tower . . . at noon in Norfolk, Mrs. Hetty Bayliss, while hanging out her washing . . . Mr. Angus Fleet, of Peebles, reported to police . . . Six or seven Muggles in all."

"I believe your father works in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office?" he had said, looking up at Ron and smiling still more nastily. "Dear, dear . . . his own son . . ." He then turned to Harry, the nasty smile vanishing in his face, replacing it with what seemed like disgust, "And how about you, Mr. Potter? Trying to live up to the legacy of your godfather?"

Harry felt sick. If anyone found out Mr. Weasley had bewitched the car... And Sirius! Oh, what he could've done. The pit in his stomach grew larger as Professor McGonagall and the headmaster himself, Professor Dumbledore, were up in front of them.

"Well, you're expelling us, aren't you?" said Ron, which snapped Harry's attention back. Not only that, he had stated the thing Harry thought was the inevitable.

"Not today, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore said gravely. "But I must impress upon both of you the seriousness of what you have done. I will be writing to both of your families tonight. I must also warn you that if you do anything like this again, I will have no choice but to expel you."

After the confrontation in Snape's office, and after eating as much as they could, Harry and Ron immediately took off and proceeded to the Gryffindor Tower. The familiar sight of the painting of the fat lady in a pink silk dress greeted them.

"Password?" she said as they approached.

They hadn't really known the password since they hadn't met a prefect yet. But help, as they caught sight of Hermione dashing toward them, has been immediate.

"There you are! Where have you been? The most ridiculous rumors - someone said you'd been expelled for crashing a flying car -"

"Well, we haven't been expelled," Harry replied to her, reassuringly.

"You're not actually telling me you did fly here?" prodded Hermione, sounding as though Professor McGonagall has taken over her.

"Skip the lecture," Ron replied impatiently, "and tell us the new password."

"It's 'wattlebird'," Hermione said, "but that's not the point-"

Her words were cut short as the portrait of the fat lady swung open and they were greeted by a sudden storm of clapping. It looked as though the totality of the Gryffindor House was waiting for them to arrive. Arms reached through the portait hole as to pull Harry and Ron inside, leaving Hermione scrambling after them.

Not shortly after this, both Harry and Ron decided to enter their own dormitory. With their backs still being slapped, they headed straight to the other side of the common room, and climbed up the staircase to reach the room with a sign saying SECOND YEARS. They entered the familiar, circular den, with its five four-posters hung with red velvet and its high, narrow windows. Their trunks had been brought up for them.

Then, with a jolt, the dormitory door flew open and in came the other second year Gryffindor boys, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, and Neville Longbottom. And its the same seen all over again.

They grinned.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3.

Their grins didn't last the next morning though. Things started to go downhill from breakfast in the Great Hall. The four long House tables were lined with tureens of porridge, plates of kippers, mountains of toast, and dishes of eggs and bacon. All under the bewitched ceiling, today a dull, cloudy gray one.

Hermione barely looked up from her copy of Voyages with Vampires when she said, "'Morning," suggesting Harry she was still disapproving of the way they had arrived. Neville Longbottom, however, had a cheerful vibe with him.

"Mail's due any minute - I think Gran's sending a few things I forgot." he said. Neville had been one of the most accident-prone boy with the worst memory Harry had ever met.

Now, barely starting his porridge, Harry was stopped dead by the rushing sound overhead of a hundred or so owls streaming in, and dropping letter and packages into the crowd. Sure enough, a big lumpy package bounced off Neville's head and, a second later, something large and gray fell into Hermione's jug, spraying them all with milk and feathers.

"Errol!" barked Ron, pulling the owl by the feet. It slumped, unconcious, onto the table. His legs in the air and a damp red envolope in his beak. Ron's concern for the owl was added with terror.

"Oh, no-" Ron gasped.

"It's all right, he's still alive," assured Hermione, prodding Errol gently with her finger.

"It's not that - it's that." Ron replied, pointing at the red envelope. Harry and Hermione looked at it nonchalantly, but Ron and Neville were both staring at like it might explode at any minute.

"What's the matter?" Harry asked.

"She's- she's sent me a Howler," Ron replied faintly, sheer terror audible from his voice.

"You'd better open it, Ron," said Neville in a timid whisper. "It'll be worse if you don't. My gran sent me one once, and I ignored it and" - he gulped - "it was horrible."

Harry looked from their petrified faces to the red envelope. "What's a Howler?" he asked. But Ron's whole attention was fixed on the letter, which had begun to smoke at the corners.

"Open it," Neville urged him. "It'll all be over in a few minutes."

Ron stretched out a shaking hand, retreived the envelope from Errol's beak, and slit it open. Neville prepared by stuffing his fingers in his ears. A split second later, Harry discovered why. He thought for a moment it had exploded as a roar of sound filled the huge hall, shaking dust from the ceiling.

"— STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SUR-

PRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL I

GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED

TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH

WHEN WE SAW IT WAS GONE —"

It had INDEED exploded. Mrs. Weasley's yells, a hundred times louder than usual, made the plates and spoons rattle on the table, and echoed deafeningly off the stone walls. People throughout the hall were swiveling around to see who had received the Howler, and Ron sank so low in his chair that only his crimson forehead could be seen.

"— LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU AND HARRY COULD BOTH HAVE DIED —"

Harry had been wondering when his name was going to crop

up. He tried very hard to look as though he couldn't hear the voice that was making his eardrums throb.

"— ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED — YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT BACK HOME."

Silence.

And so the red envelope had dropped from Ron's hand to burst into flames and curl into ashes. They're both stunned. A few people laughed and, gradually, a babble of talk broke out again.

Hermione checked on Ron, who just shushed her up. Harry pushed his porridge away, the pit in his stomach evident again. After all Mr. and Mrs. Weassley had done for him over the summer...

His thoughts, however, were pushed by the sight of Professor McGonagall alongside the head teachers of the other Houses. But not just by that. As the head teachers were handling out course schedules, Harry recognized Hedwig, flying toward him, his beak carrying a red envelope, very much like Ron's. He couldn't move. A single thought just popped out of his mind. Sirius.

As Hedwig drops out letter, Harry's mind was swarmed by the possible things Sirius would say to him. Ron, recognizing the same intense feeling, patted him. "Carry on, open it," he said.

Harry didn't have a choice. He would need to open it. Reaching out for it with a trembling hand, Harry gulped and wished it wasn't that bad. But after hearing Mrs. Weasley's Howler, he couldn't really convince himself. Finally, he slit it open and with what seemed like an eternity, came a deep, hoarse voice. "HARRY," It was Sirius'. And it sounded mad. Everyone in the Great Hall, save Filch, was looking in Harry's direction and in the Howler he just received. And then the voice continued...

"I GOTTA SAY, I'M NOT EVEN MAD. I'M ACTUALLY IMPRESSED. MERLIN'S BLOODY BALLS, I'M PROUD."

The sound of giggling echoed in the room with the sound of Remus Lupin's voice in the background saying, "Sirius, no."

"Hush, Remus. ANYWAY, GODSON. I SAY I'M PRETTY PROUD OF YOU. YOU'RE CLEARLY FOLLOWING OUR FOOTSTEPS." - a laugh - "ALSO, DON'T MIND SNAPE. THAT SNIVELLUS OLD GIT CAN'T HANDLE SOME FUN."

With this, an awful lot of students started choking up or blowing up their food, trying to bit back a laugh. Snape, with his face crimson with shame, shushed them up.

"YOUR GODFATHER, SIGNING OUT."

Note: That was fun.


End file.
